


A Long Time Ago...

by roane



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Humor, Light Angst, Mary Sue, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 07:44:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6795286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roane/pseuds/roane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roane is the well-known creator and writer for the smash hit holonet drama, <em>Empire of Evil</em>, which details the adventures of the Rebel Alliance during the Galactic Civil War. Turns out, there are some people who aren't very happy about that. (Written for Self Insert Week 2016.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Long Time Ago...

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for [Self Insert Week](http://that-vicious-vixen.tumblr.com/post/142608476206/self-insert-week-2016), and let me tell you, I had way too much fun doing it. I highly recommend writing your own self-insert fic.

I’d been in the office since before sunrise contemplating the next season’s story arc for _Empire of Evil_ , and I just wasn’t getting anywhere. Don’t let anyone tell you that being in charge of writing for the galaxy’s hottest new holodrama is easy. Literally no one, least of all me, expected that Yet Another Retelling of the Galactic Civil War would be a hit with audiences, I mean, it’s a story that every child in the galaxy grew up hearing. But here I am, corner office at the crack of dawn (but hey, the view of Coruscant is amazing from here). 

Season one was, of course, ending with the heroes finally managing to destroy the Death Star, just in the nick of time (don’t look at me like that, that’s how it actually happened, look up the history!), and now I had to figure out where to start season two.

My desk was covered in historical records, eyewitness reports. I have an ex-girlfriend who got Wedge Antilles drunk in a bar once, and I have the only existing transcript of _that_ conversation. Believe me, if the Skywalker and Solo families knew anyone had it… well, let’s just say I keep it locked up tight in my office when I’m not referring to it.

My office door buzzed and I groaned, anticipating the worst. “Yes?”

“Roane? I’ve got the latest rewrite requests for the season finale.” Bel, my assistant, sounded more high-strung than usual. 

“Come on in.” I shoved several empty caf mugs out of the way, clearing a spot for the new datapad Bel was sure to bring me. 

The first sign of just how bad the rewrites were going to be was in the way that Bel’s black and orange streaked hair stood up in every direction, like she’d been trying to pull it out. She handed me the datapad, but before I read it myself, I eyed her. “How bad?”

“They want you to cut the kiss.”

“Listen. That kiss is in the historical record. I have eyewitnesses!” Ugh, the executives just didn’t get it. The entire point of pillaging history for holonet melodrama was to include (or make up) every lurid detail possible.

“I know, but—”

“But nothing! I have it on excellent authority that the entire Rebel Alliance was gossiping about Senator Organa and her brother for _months_. I mean, it’s not like anybody _knew_ they were brother and sister, so what’s the harm?” I sent a silent thank you to Captain Antilles and to Hols for plying him with Corellian brandy for hours. “That’s half my story arc for season two— _will they or won’t they_?”

“Don’t you think it’s a little—”

“It’s _history_ ,” I repeated. “And besides, with everything that came out in the Senate last year, now we know exactly when Luke Skywalker found out that Darth Vader was his father, so now we can include that too!” _That_ particular scene I already had written in my head, and it was a doozy. “What else didn’t they like?”

Bel took the hint to move on. “Well, one of the executives wanted to know why Chewbacca didn’t get a medal. She thought we ran the risk of angering some of the non-human audience members with that.”

“Huh.” I sat back in my chair. “It’s on record that he didn’t—I never stopped to question it.” I made a note on my own datapad. “Give Chewie a medal too. Got it. Anything else big?”

“No, those are the biggest things.” She extended the datapad and I took it. “Don’t forget you’ve got lunch with your agent in two hours.”

“Right, thank you.” I’d totally forgotten. “Do me a favor, will you, yell at me again a half an hour before that.” If all went well, I could knock out these rewrites by then. Especially since the kiss then-Princess Leia gave to Luke Skywalker before he flew off to blow up the Death Star was _staying in the script_. 

#

Sometimes you win a fight over edits and sometimes you don’t. This time I won because I had the actors on my side. I’m pretty sure the guy we’ve got playing Luke is eager to play out the whole dramatic reveal that he’s been in love with his sister for years. He’s cuter than a baby Ewok and I’m repeatedly reminded that I’m old enough to be his mother. I also think he’s got a crush on the actress playing Leia, and will settle for a holonet kiss if that’s all he can get.

Actors. 

I finally locked up my office just after dark, exhausted and ready to crawl back to my home and spend the evening on my couch, catching up on what the other holonet channels were up to.

At least, that was my plan.

As I was crossing the atrium lobby of the production offices, the hair on the back of my neck stood up, as if I were being watched. I looked around, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Too much caf and too much stress today.

The walkways outside the building were as crowded as always, everyone trying to get home from work or get to their night out. I moved into the flow of the crowd, but the feeling prickling at my neck didn’t go away. 

Even despite my heightened awareness, I didn’t catch the presence behind me until a hand closed over my elbow.

“I recommend you stay quiet. I just want to talk.” 

I did a double-take at the cloaked figure holding onto my arm. Of course I recognized the profile just visible beneath the hood. I’d been studying this man’s life for the past two years.

_Oh shit, this is bad. I’m in trouble_.

My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to figure out my chances of escaping, of all people, Luke kriffing Skywalker. Those chances? Not good. Look, I’m a writer. I sit on my ass all day and it’s a pretty sizable ass. No way I’m outrunning anybody faster than a Hutt.

Even if I could, there was no way I was pulling away from the iron grip on my elbow. He guided me down a narrow quiet street as I tried to remind myself that the Jedi—as far as my research said—generally frowned on things like vengeance and cold-blooded murder. But then I remembered who this guy’s father had turned out to be and…

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

I stole a glance at him. He was shorter than I’d expected, about my height. You kinda got the impression from all the stories that he was some giant of a guy, but no. I did some quick math in my head; he would be in his late forties by now, just a few years older than me. 

Between the two of us, he was aging a hell of a lot better.

Okay so maybe I stared a little bit. Twenty five years ago his face, along with his sister’s, was _everywhere_. I remember seeing them smiling through one ceremony after another, founding the New Republic, and I remember how much hope we all felt in those days. Sure I’d had a crush on him. I’d had a crush on his sister too. Who didn’t? They were beautiful and they were heroes. 

His eyes were that same shade of intense blue that I remembered, _and_ they were focused on _me_ , so I think I can be forgiven for feeling like a seventeen year old again. And—okay fine—and for tripping over my own feet. It wasn’t my fault he was still pretty enough to make me forget how to walk, even with gray-streaked hair and a beard.

My face went hot. _Goddamn it, he can read minds_.

He _laughed_ at me. Just a little chuckle, but still. Luke Skywalker was not only apparently _kidnapping me_ , but now he was laughing at me. I have never wished for death more fervently.

Instead of death, we found whatever quiet, secluded corner he’d been looking for. I was the one in the corner. So even when he let me go, escaping wasn’t an option. It was a step up from an alley; at least my back wasn’t to a trash bin, just to a stone wall.

“So. Roane Terra.” He folded his arms across his chest and fixed me with a look. “I’ve seen your show.”

_Oh no._ “It’s not just mine, I mean… there are a lot of us working on it…” I trailed off. I wasn’t even fooling myself. I was the one who’d fought for the “Created By” credit, I was the head writer. _Empire of Evil_ was my baby and everybody knew it. “I… didn’t realize that Jedi watched the holonet.”

He grinned at me and my insides did a flip. “Only when it’s about my life.”

“It’s… not, not really… it’s about the war.”

He just looked at me until I had to look away. “Where are you getting your information?” he asked. “You’ve got some details right that I didn’t think anyone knew outside of a handful of people.”

Oh no, here it was. “I, uh… make up a lot of things.”

“You realize that I can tell when you’re lying, right?” He still didn’t look angry, just mildly amused. 

“I can’t tell you. I have to…” I scrambled for a reason. “I have to protect my sources.” If half of what I’d read through the years was true, he’d be able to just pick the answer out of my head anyway, so why should I tell him? “Was that why you pulled me down here?”

After a long pause, he asked, “Why did you want to do this? You must know that the New Republic is facing a terrible danger. So why do this now? Why show people a version of the Empire that’s weak and ridiculous? The Empire was horrific, not a bunch of bumbling bureaucrats.” He was getting angry now, fire rising in his eyes, and I fought the urge to press back against the stone. “We’re fighting, even now, to try and convince people that we are in danger again, and you make the Empire a joke, you reassure people that nothing truly evil can rise from their ashes. Why would you do that?”

“Because I can.” Something long dead sparked in me, my own anger that I’d thought forgotten and done with years before. “If I show people an Empire that was ridiculous, a dragon made out of straw, then I’m reassuring them that any evil can be defeated. I take away the fear that the names Palpatine and Vader used to inspire and replace it with the image of a couple of guys in funny masks—so the _next_ time we have a couple of guys in funny masks trying to cause chaos, we know to laugh at them. We know what they are. Straw dragons.”

Then I stopped, because at some point in my tirade I’d come out of my corner and was standing chest to chest with him, my finger in his face. I was wrong—I was a little taller than he was. Or maybe I was just standing straighter than I usually do.

I braced myself. I don’t know what for, maybe for him to strike me down with a lightsaber, or choke me with the Force, I don’t know, but I was ready, I thought.

“Who did you lose?” His voice was soft and caught me off-guard.

I wasn’t ready for that. I slumped back away from him, swallowing the unexpected lump in my throat. “My older brother and his family lived on Alderaan.”

His face was so kind. Probably more kindness than I deserved. “And you would have been… what, about twelve at the time?” 

“Thirteen.”

“I’m sorry.” Luke went quiet again, and I was uncomfortably aware of his eyes on my face. I couldn’t bring myself to meet those eyes, and wound up staring into the middle distance. Finally he said, “It’s good, what you’re doing. Too many people are forgetting that war.”

“I know. I’ve seen it happening.” By no means was I privy to any Senate secrets (maybe I needed to send Hols to get a senator drunk sometime), but I kept my ear to the ground. I knew about the rumors of a darkness growing in the galaxy. I finally did meet Luke’s eyes, even though my heart was in my throat.

He was smiling. Somewhere, seventeen year-old me was collapsing of heart failure. It was a near thing for forty-three year-old me. “You know…” he said, “Wedge doesn’t know half as much as he thinks he knows. Especially after he’s had a few.”

I blinked. _Damn_.

He went on. “But I know everything, because I was there.” 

I kept blinking. His smile got wider. 

I finally managed, “Are you… are you offering to…”

“Be your new source? Yes, when I can.”

A little ball of excitement was growing in my chest, threatening to blossom out and swallow me entirely. Would he let us give him a credit? If we could list Luke Skywalker as a consultant, if we could get that word out, the ratings would skyrocket even higher, plus I could—

“I just have one requirement,” he said. “The whole business you’re doing between Leia and me…”

_Damn, damn and double damn_. I wouldn’t cut the kiss because the execs told me, but I’d do it in order to get him on as a consultant. If I had to. I sighed. “Yes?”

“Keep doing it. It drives Leia crazy.” He grinned. “But the rest of us think it’s hilarious.”

Was it against protocol to hug a Jedi? It probably was. I settled for sticking my hand out. “Master Skywalker, you’ve got a deal.”

He shook my hand. “Call me Luke.”

“All right. Luke.” My head was abuzz with excitement. This was really happening! The holonet execs were going to wet themselves with either fear or glee. Either way, I won. He offered me his arm and I took it, half-aware of what I was doing.

“Let’s get you home,” he said. “I imagine you’re looking ahead to next season for the show. Boy, could I tell you some stories about Hoth…”

That got my full attention. We headed back out to the main walkways of the city, and I hung on every single word.


End file.
